Wednesday, 28 January 2009

With One Star Awake

Give me the music and I’ll write you a song,
With simple words simply put where they belong,
Give me a melody to remind me of you,
And I’ll tell of a time when one equalled two,
Give me a chance to be without pain,
And I’ll move silently over water again.

Play me a symphony to arouse my soul,
And I shall dress according to my role,
Compose an unfinished work to question Time,
And I shall find the accompanying rhyme,
Beat a fast rhythm that breaks every bond,
And I will wave a magic healing wand.

Tune the orchestra to an oboe’s call,
And I shall choreograph a dance for the ball,
Let the sound ripple in waves through the air,
And water reflect it in the gown I wear,
Give me Time to create a universal space,
And I will float like a veil of fine lace.

Give me the music and I’ll write a song,
With simple words simply put where they belong,
Give me a melody to remind me of you,
And I’ll tell of a time when one equalled two,
Give me a chance to be without pain,
And I’ll move silently over water again.
The picture was appropriately made from two photographs with the aid of Photoshop.
The words of the song merely echoed the music that I heard as 'She Moved Through The Fair'.

To All Followers of my journals

I have posted the last episode of my science fiction story on Stories between Friends.
I shall now post what will probably be the last post for Visual Counterpoint.
I tried to post this picture and song a couple of days ago and failed.
I have two other entries already written for Martha’s A-Z photo challenge and if I can I will post them when relevant.
As far as Home the Journey is concerned it never truly reflected my journey nor spoke of any home of mine and I have no sorrow to leave it without any further post.
I would like to thank everyone who has followed my journals and for the comments that I have received.

Monday, 26 January 2009

Rob has explained all the phenomena that were occurring on the new computer were due to a faulty wireless keyboard and mouse.
Apparently this caused the start menu to appear at will, the pages of blogs I was trying to read to scroll uncontrollably to the bottom and the pointer to refuse to move to where I was directing it.
I now have another new keyboard and mouse.
What the above does not explain is the fact that interference with the smooth operation of the pointer and this scrolling was occurring on my old laptop as well. On one occasion whilst I was checking the blogs that I follow by reading the dashboard information it scrolled up and down stopping at a blog title then going off again frequently changing direction. I was not touching anything. The movement across the screen made me nauseous and it went on for at least one minute maybe more. I had to shut my eyes to stop the inevitable headache from developing. I could not possibly read the words that appeared for only a short time.
I didn’t bother to tell this to Rob because I know his answer would be that my old laptop was on the verge of crashing which of course it did this weekend. Personally I am not surprised it crashed and I know how it felt.
Rob has wiped my laptop and used the recovery disc to put back the original settings. I am loath to put AOL onto it again but he says he needs to upgrade XP via the net because it is now without the service pack that windows had downloaded. Also the Oxford Thesaurus disc requires the computer to be linked to the Internet in order to load it.
I am not yet sure what I shall do. I have had serious thoughts over the weekend to cancel AOL and go offline. If I do I will post the end to the science fiction story ‘A Meeting of Minds’ for any that are following it.
I have deleted the posts on Home the Journey because they was written in anger and bitterness but I do not retract the ones here.
I am now unable to get online.
I will wait for Rob to get in tonight. This new computer is becoming a pain.
I have gone back to Rob's laptop to post this, as the new computer still will not connect.
I have been trying to write another chapter for A Meeting of Minds on the new computer. It now is refusing to even allow me to type on the next line and leaves a massive gap.
I do not need this kind of stress.
I shall attempt to finish the story for those that are following it.
Everything that has and is happening to me now convinces me the sooner I cancel AOL and all internet connection the better it will be for me.

Rob has removed AOL and Internet connection from the new computer.
I shall use his laptop to post the rest of the story.

Saturday, 24 January 2009


Friday, 23 January 2009

The Heart Beats All

Here is the link to this challenge

Part One

Take a picture of a heart that you would like to see on a collage... Lighting is essential ...

I used Photoshop instead of a tripod or flash...

Part Two

Paint a heart, draw or sketch a heart, colour a heart, be creative...

The heart that beats in time with music
And echoes through the lands,
The heart that reaches up to the sky
And on firm ground still stands,
The heart that gives all and then some more
And never asks for pay,
Is a heart that flies to the heavens
And shows a better way.

Wednesday, 21 January 2009

Nothing More Besides

Only a distant sun remains to shine
On an empty open hand,
Only a shadow remains to echo
An empty open hand,
Only silence remains to hold
An empty open hand,
Only time remains to touch
An empty open hand,
Only memories remain to live
And fill an open hand.

Tuesday, 20 January 2009

Ghosts and Echoes

On a mirror held up to the past,
A green ghost train now silently runs,
Cold echoes billow around my feet,
And the ground welcomes the memory
That rolls over the rails,
While trees weep a waterfall to wash away regret,
Will the cyclist now passing see the water flow?

Ugly is in the Eye of the Beholder

Martha's A-Z Photo challenge has arrived at the letter U
U is for Ugly Duckling
Follow the link to join in and view other entries

U is for ugly in feathers of brown,
That will be unwrapped for snowy white down,
U is for the ugly word and deed
And underhand from where those slights lead,
U with an umlaut I learned is a Mac.Smile,
Understanding can take me quite a long while,
U is for until we shall meet again,
In an unknown country where the future is lain,

Run, Fly, Dream

Run, run away, run back and run free,
You should not have come anywhere near me,
My touch is death; my heart is cold stone,
You would do well to leave me alone.
I am like quicksand; no firm footing here,
I am like water falling over the weir,
I will only bring sadness to you,
So leave, as all who get to know me do.

Fly, fly away, fly far and fly free,
I am already dead; that’s my grave not me,
I have nothing to give and nothing to hide,
There is absolutely nothing worth anything inside,
I’m not the ring I’m what it holds,
Like a black hole that space-time eternally folds,
Do not look back; speed on your way,
Fly to tomorrow; forget yesterday today.

Dream, dream away, dream on and dream free,
And when you wake you may remember me
For a fleeting moment before memory is lost,
And back into this mad world you are tossed,
Or suddenly you may feel a faint touch like a breeze,
Then this crazy world that surrounds you will freeze,
Once more we will dance; once more we will sing,
Once more we will hear the joy music can bring.

Sunday, 18 January 2009

A Dream Remembered in the Morning

Let my soul see through,
Briars like a black lace veil,
Drawn over a dead memory,
Into the light of a new day,

Let my shaded path,
Be bordered by tall guards,
Reaching with a living strength,
Into the light of a clear sky,

Let my heavy heart sing,
Through the depths of cold winter days,
Echoing spring with colour and dance,
Into the light of a secret stage,

Let water hold me,
Between weaving banks of earth,
Wending a way beyond knowledge,
Into the light of greater wisdom,

Let my thoughts spread out,
And touch those of another,
Raising a canopy so both may easily see,
Into the light over the horizon,

Thursday, 15 January 2009

I Will Not Lie

Don’t ask me to promise you a walk tomorrow,
Don’t plead with me to go that way,
I let you down and I will again,
You’re just a dog and can’t understand my pain,
It rose to murder me today,
And the best of me died to my great sorrow.

Don’t ask me to forgive when sorry’s not been said,
And mistakes are covered by corruption and lies,
Don’t expect me to be an angel of peace,
When the torture I’m left in doesn’t cease,
Don’t look to me for one who always tries
To help when for truth my heart lies dead.

Don’t look at me with those soft brown eyes,
I’m a human being that will frequently fail,
All I can do is say sorry to you,
All I can say is I’ve tried my best to do
What’s right but today I drove another nail
Into my coffin fashioned by others’ cruel lies.

A Forked Tongue only knows how to Lie

I feel so bad I hurt everywhere and beyond,
Where could I ever find a magic wand?
That could put out the pain that burns in my heart,
When will this torture ever depart?
Why do I cry? Why do I sigh?
When all I really want is to be allowed to die?
I feel so bad I hurt everywhere and beyond,
I do not believe in any magic wand.

I do not believe in much anymore,
I have been betrayed by manmade law,
I have been used and abused by ‘friends’,
I have no wish to make amends,
I have no trust for what they might say,
Too many lies litter yesterday,
I do not believe in much anymore,
I don’t seek protection from any manmade law.

I have been broken and thrown away,
Is it any wonder I don’t wish to stay?
A scream is growing that shall echo my dream,
For nothing is as you would have it seem,
Like Queen Ann at the front, Mary-Ann at the back
All is a sham; your leaders I’d sack,
I have been broken and thrown away,
There’s absolutely no reason for me to stay.
The previous title for this was X-directory.
The only photograph I had to illustrate this was one that I did not want associated with the major part of my life that was spent chasing a dream that does not exist. It portraid a natural scene.
I had a vocation to help animals in distress and pain. Today that is a dirty word.
There is nothing natural about the profession I joined and now leave totally disallusioned. It supports monetary profit only.
The other profession that uses the snake as a symbol of its' verity?
How appropriate is all I can say.


Long lost are the sheep this gate was built to hold,
Briars proclaim this land belongs to the bold,
Only the wild can live in chaos and grow,
Only a passing shadow shall any way show,
The message lying unopened left by the weak,
For time still hides the unspoken words of the meek.

No rampant rage shall ever read truth’s sign,
No greed will ever gather the simplest design,
No music will play through airs thick with lies,
No song shall be sung where arrogance flies,
No thought of this stays a moment more in a mind,
That remains open to anything better it might find.

Lost, lost, lost the wind will echo the sound
Long may all weep for this defiled ground,
Long may the shadows cast a memory to wake
The conscience of any follower for love’s sake,
Here my heart’s song shall live for ever and a day,
Having found no other place that wants it to stay.

A Promise of Joy that Grows to Glory

Through dark days and the bitter winter night,
Sealed buds promises silently keep,
Snaking cruel winds carelessly sweep
Between bare branches exposed to their might,
A low sun sends weary softer rays,
To gently touch the frosted black bark,
Every point of light leaves its’ star’s mark,
Kindling a moment so memory stays.

The secrets of sunshine held by a tree,
Cast shadows that reach through time into spring,
The warmth of joy such patience will bring,
When no longer imprisoned and breaks free,
Rings through the years with life’s strident call,
And sings from the heart of youthful dreams,
Dances with magical silver moonbeams,
At the equinox evening ball.

A lingering song long summer days swell
Into soft warm wide starry-eyed nights,
Where sweet scented air a dream delights,
And time would stop in one moment to dwell,
Yet nowhere shall nature soundlessly sleep,
The music grows with every wing beat,
When bat, butterfly and bird pass over wheat,
And fortune ripens for the future to reap.

A young oak holds fast to autumnal glory,
Whilst all around the earth claims her right,
To the gown of gold for the coming night,
Here she mirrors a moving love story,
A blustering breeze plays through the tree,
Leaves dance and laugh with childlike delight,
Celebrating the end of a lifetime’s fight,
Released from care the song encircles me.

Better Than Sliced Bread?

Frozen in time the gifts stand proud,
And shout to the ducks and swans out loud,
"Here we were all thrown away,
Wait and watch, for the dish of the day
Is better than sliced bread if you have knife,
Oops! We really must have a word with that wife!"

"Those lemons are more than a beak can stand,
We are vegetarians that prefer water to land,
But your rubbish should go in the refuse bin,
To pollute our world is purely a sin!
Our swimming pool’s been stolen by ice,
And the decorations don’t make it nice."

Light in Dark

The glittering winter night flees before
The dawn of a rising star
That easily outshines all others,
Not with any greater strength or power,
But with a close, constant companionship,
The earth will always turn to for warmth and life.

The glittering worldly wealth dims before
A single act of human kindness
That clearly outshines all jewels,
Not with any greater polish or profit,
But with a close, caring consideration,
The heart will always turn to for warmth and life.

Wednesday, 14 January 2009

The Thorn Branch

No softness here; summer has fled,
Autumn undressed and silently bled
All that the harvest could give and left,
A bare denuded stem bereft
Of comfort. Only hardness remains,
Greed has gathered its’ ill-gotten gains,
The thorn will defend this fragile root,
The thieves have stolen all their loot.

So leave this thorny branch alone,
It belongs to water turned to stone,
No spring can open this scene now,
Time’s run out of what it will allow,
And frozen this picture of pain,
Like an indelible bloodstain,
The only water that now flows
Are tears only innocence knows.

Square Deal

To a wild grass that once dreamed
Of waving like the tall golden corn
In the cooling breeze of a long summer day,
This was once a barrier.
Now it stands as a support,
For weak stems broken and bent with stress,
Strength sapped by the demands made by
A meagre unwanted harvest.

Winter winds whine as they pass,
They find no willing partner here,
In the lengthening nights peace and sleep rule,
This was the end of a beginning,
Now it stands as a beginning of the end.

Naturally Less Than Enough

Out of date and dumped,
Machinery once useful and productive lies rusting,
A support only for briars,
In a forgotten corner of a forgotten field,
Thankful for the camouflage,
Hiding from unsympathetic eyes,
Here a part of history dies.

Look at the land lain to waste,
Once tilled and productive now nature is reclaiming,
As support for only herself,
This rejected source of a rejected spring,
Thankful for the rescued rest,
Hiding from unsympathetic eyes,
Here with the past history dies.

Hammer and anvil were both held
By time and in each moment dwelled,
Choices were made, which one to be,
Blows rang down through eternity,
What deeds were forged between the two
Now forgotten by all but a few.

Wisdom will walk away,
Darkness of night is now steadily creeping,
To support only the silence,
And a dying sun of a dying day
Thankful for the dreams of sleep,
Hiding from unsympathetic eyes,
Here in earth’s history now lies.

Something Destructive This Way Came

Smoothness is smashed,
Something this way crashed,
The jigsaw is beyond Jack’s ability to do,
So he fills the gaps with his own special glue,
With a magic wand,
He binds the bond,
But leaves a clear scar behind like a clue.

Skating is stopped,
The ice has been chopped,
This surface won’t ever again give a fun ride,
Over a tilted stage the actors now slide,
Comedians all,
Take a curtain call,
Your awkwardness you can no longer hide.

Wednesday, 7 January 2009

The bleak mid-winter

An echo carries a secret song,
Beyond the silent bridge of stone,
Built to stand completely alone,
On foundations simple and strong,
Yet spanning the water below,
With a grace born only in air,
Giving flight to footsteps with care,
How else could such beauty show?

The water hears the music’s heart,
And sends a sympathetic touch,
Through the cold of winter’s clutch,
So earth and sky shall never part,
Let tomorrow come as it surely must
On wings that beat such a melody,
That we not only hear but also see,
How stone can crumble and iron rust.

Then the world will be wreathed in smiles,
No horizon hinder a thought,
Yet all within a web be caught,
As hope rises from these fair Isles
With glory into an endless sky,
And dawn breaks all barrier walls,
When simple love mankind recalls,
Echoes of the question why will die.

Monday, 5 January 2009

A Cygnet Song

Carly's challenge this week is a photograph of 'a nap'

Follow link to join in and view other entries.

I was only having a nice little snooze
When my family left me and went on a cruise,
And to make matters worse when I woke,
Jack Frost had played a terrible joke,
Where water supported my fine swimming stroke,
Ice ensures any balance I’ve got I’d lose,
So I’ll just have a nap if you will excuse…